You're a Guest in my House

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Since many of you are new to this blog, and some of you haven't review the older posts, I thought I'd just recap a few things. Most of which that follows here should not be news to you, because I've written about it before. But it seems I must say it again.

I designed this blog first and foremost as a means for me to learn who I am, and how I came to be me. Secondly, I made it a place for you and I to discuss our Thoughts. As some of you know, I frequently present sensative subjects in order to promote further discussions through comments. Although I have made remarks regarding the numbers of my followers, I really don't care if anyone reads my blog. Writing is simply a tool that I've found to explore my inner Thoughts.

That said, let me help you understand how things work here. You see, I am the author of this blog, and you have chosen to be a reader. I make the rules and moderate the blog. You are here because you chose to come. But you will remain here only at my discretion. I really do have the authority to do that.

I'll be blunt. If you don't like what you read here, then read somewhere else. If I offend you, then leave if you like. But if you offend me, you will leave. That's the rules folks. You are a guest of my Thought Dock, and that is what it is.

So stick around a bit if you like. I actually enjoy hearing your views if they at least have some basis. Most of your comments have been great. Although I've not always agreed, I've not yet X'd anyone. Or should it be, I've not X'd anyone yet?

That said, I hope you can find this blog interesting and will continue to visit. Enjoy your weekend!
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1907

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My youngest brudda, whom I call "My Binkie Bro", passed this on to me. So, Ill share it with you.

Roosevelt 's ideas on Immigrants and being an AMERICAN in 1907. The caption reads:

"In the first place, we should insist that if the immigrant who comes here in good faith becomes an American and assimilates himself to us, he shall be treated on an exact equality with everyone else, for it is an outrage to discriminate against any such man because of creed, or birthplace, or origin. But this is predicated upon the person's becoming in every facet an American, and nothing but an American....There can be no divided allegiance here. Any man who says he is an American, but something else also, isn't an American at all. We have room for but one flag, the American flag... We have room for but one language here, and that is the English language... and we have room for but one sole loyalty and that is a loyalty to the American people." Theodore Roosevelt 1907

It was about the time of this photo, that my grandparents arrived at Ellis Island. It didn't take them long to become the Americans President Roosevelt was talking about. They learned English as best they could, and never really passed along their native language to their own children. The raised a large family and soon their sons were off at war fighting the very country that they immigrated from.

How things have changed. Most immigrants no longer give up their language or sacrafice their culture to blend in and become Americans. Some Americans even take on the culture and fly the flags of their of their ancestors from 200 years ago, a culture and a country none have ever even seen.

So, where are we going from here? I'm heading for the Thought Dock! Come with me, so you can see.

Prices

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A long while ago as a young cop, I taught a junior high school class entitled, "Rights and Responsabilities." The class was designed to illustrate that the Rights we have as Americans are not free, but have Responsabilities attached. And I always closed the class by repeating some one else's saying, "But our hard earned Rights will be the very thing that destroys us."

The Rights we have were not free. My father, and each of his brothers fought to preserve the Rights that were given to us by past generations. Close to 20% of my high school male friends, and one brother-in-law died while at war, not to mention my other brother-in-law, and my many other friends that returned from war with less than what they had taken. Our son, our nephew, and many of our friend's sons and nephews, are or have served in the armed forces overseas. Some have completed their tours and returned home, some have not yet, and some will never. Those that serve do so because it is their responsability.

So many have paid the price to win and preserve the Rights and Freedoms that we seem to take forgranted. The war is not over, and will likely not ever be over. We complain that over 4000 of our loved ones have paid our price in Iraq. Not to minimize their lives, but we lost that many soldiers on the beaches of Normandy in the first 3 hours! Today, Americans are complaining that our troops in Afghanistan killed 27 civillians during a firefight with the Taliban. What about the 50,000 we killed in a split second at Hiroshima?

Now, I'm not a war lover. But I believe in what Americans have fought for. From our Revolutionary War, to the Civil War, to World Wars, Vietnam, the Middle East, and all the ones in between, there was a price. And I believe they were all worth that price, what ever it was. But I always pray for peace.

In the beginning, our Fathers fought and paid the price for religious freedom, which we are about to lose. Our Fathers fought to end slavery, have equal rights for women and minorities, and to protect our homeland, which were are about to lose. With a Half-White President that has benefitted dearly by the prices our forefathers paid, now giving away our National secrets, shaking hands with terrorists, and de-emphasizing Christianity and it's values, I feel very concerned for the future of my grand children, and their children. The very Rights which were fought for are being used from within and against us.

I post this now, as Memorial Day nears, to encourage you to plan time to thank those that you can for paying our price, and for those that you can't thank, thank their parents, or just say a prayer.

I'll be praying for those, and for America, from the solitude of the Thought Dock.
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Seventh Inning Stretch

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At every Dodger game in Los Angeles, "Take me out to the ball game" is played at the start of the 7th inning to give the fans a chance to stretch their legs. That's what we all ought to do right about now.

The State of California is at the brink of brokeness because it can not meet it's budget obligation. The State claims that because so many have lost their income, it takes in less income taxes.

Ask Manny Ramirez how that works. He lost 3.3 million in wages for his 50-game suspension, which calculates to a 1.5 million dollar loss of income taxes to our government (of course that is a combined state and federal tax estimate).

Ask Vice President Biden about his brother's and maybe even his son's federal investigation of a 86 million dollar investment fraud scheme in California. That's a big loss of California income tax owed not only by the Biden company, but by the individual investor's earnings.

As more and more of those California millionaires lose their earnings, whether derived through corruption, fraud, or the raping of the real estate and financial sectors, the State receives less and less income. So now California is asking the Federal government to bail them out.

Stretch your legs folks! California voters themselves defeated several tax initiatives today, refusing to pay any more money to their State, and saying "Enough is enough." So we, (everybody living outside of California) are supposed to support their lifestyle, which they refuse to pay for? Give me a break!

This Country is well beyond the Seventh Inning Stretch! Come take a stretch with me at the Thought Dock.
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One Finished - Another Coming

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The Rhododendron Festival has passed. It was a mad house, so I understand. I have to go on second hand reports because I was not there for most of it.

My brudda, and his wife Kathy, joined me, Jim G, and his wife Lisa, Jerry, Don B, and his wife Becky, and Don M, and we all left town on our motorcycles. Unfortunately, my wife stayed in town to man the food booth at the Festival to raise money through hotdog and hamburger sales for her favorite charity.

The ride was a loop of about 200 miles through the inland wine country and farm lands. Just beautiful, and the weather was perfect. It consumed most of the day as we just had to stop and eat, stop and drink, and just stop to take in the views.

Following the ride, my wife and I hosted an unplanned barbecue from the deck over looking the Thought Dock. It was our first shindig ever on the deck. Jerry's wife, Dianna, and my brudda in law, Jim, joined in pushing the total to about a dozen. It went well for something spur of the moment. I creamed the burgers, but the whole sockeye salmon that my brudda brought, and the dogs and sausage were great. That went well into the evening and I was pooped out.

Sunday was the finale of the Festival. My wife marched in the parade in support of her charity. It was her first time ever to be a part of a parade. She was excited and did well. I watched from the sidewalk. And then it ended and we took naps.

And now, the Memorial Day weekend is upon us, and a 4-day ride is in the works. So now I've got to get to the Thought Dock to figure that out.

Dinosaurs, Oil, Coal 'n' Diamonds

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I really don't know much about Dinosaurs or Diamonds, and how they relate to oil and coal.

I do remember learning in school that coal comes from plant material that has been under great pressure over long periods of time. And, when coal is compressed even more, a diamond is formed. And I know that diamonds can be created by man by duplicating what it took nature thousands of years to do.

And I remember watching Exxon commercials on TV in the 70's where a giant boot thumped the ground to locate dinosaurs that had been trapped beneath the surface many years before and somehow were turned into oil. So, I've heard that oil is formed by decaying animal matter under pressure, and since dinosaurs were the biggest animals around, they got all the credit for being turned into crude. But I suppose any animal's matter would work.

So, if I were to agree with the scientists about the age of the earth, and the existence of dinosaurs and such, I could be convinced that plant matter turns into coal, which then turns into diamonds. The natural ones we wear on our fingers and necks, and the man made ones are used to build tools and machinery, or if you like wearing imitation (cheap) crap, you can wear those also.

But the dinosaurs to crude concept is a bit harder for me to understand. Now, we've been pumping crude out of the ground for a hundred years. I wonder how many rotten dinosaurs trapped beneath the surface to fill just one of those gigantic oil tankers that traverse the globe by the hundreds every day. Were there really that many dinosaurs around? And some of the largest oil field lie in Russia and Alaska in very cold climates where I didn't think dinosaurs ever roamed. And, why isn't there man made crude? All we'd have to do is grow some animals, then cook them down under pressure and Whaalaa, Presto, we should have crude. Sure would need a lot of animals though.

So, I'll visit the Thought Dock again for these answers, but it might be a lot easier if you (in particular my oldest daughter's only son) could help me out here.

Enjoy the weekend!
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Rhododendron Days

For those of you who don't know, pictured at the right is a Rhododendron bush in bloom. My research has revealed that there are over 1000 species of this plant, so this one might not look exactly like the ones you've seen. I guess they grow most everywhere, except in the drier regions.

Our Central Oregon Coast town is the Rhododendron Capital of the World. So, we are having our Rhody Days Festival this weekend.

Now most every small town has some type of a gig. We went to the Corn Festival in Northern Colorado, and the Strawberry Festival on the Coast of California, and the Apple Festival in the Tehachapi Mountains, and a Peach Festival and an Almond Festival in the SoCal desert. Been to a bunch of them, and I don't want to take away from any of them, but the Rhody Festival is the best.

My youngest brother, and his wife, will visit me and my wife, and my other sister, and her husband, right here in this town. Many more will gather in the like and this town's population will increase from the normal 8,500 to over 40k for the weekend.

There will be a parade complete with the Rhody Queen, and most of the prior Queens dating back 40 years. A car show, a carnival, scores of dances and other presentations by the youth and various organizations from around the community, marching bands from all over, motorcycle clubs from everywhere, will be non stop. The 3 traffic signals in town will be overwhelmed, the diners packed, the hotels booked, our Manor full, and the casino popping. The weather is forecast to be clear and near 70's.

So what better time to visit the Thought Dock than now? So come on, hope a flight, and have some fun with me and 40k other people just like me.

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Must be a Colore Condition

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During some of my visits to Colorado, Utah, and Arizona, I've encountered times where the Skies were bright blue clear, and the wind calm. Then almost with out warning, near gale force winds emerge, the sky darkens, and it rains like heck for 20 or 30 minutes before the still, sunny, blue skies return. It's really pretty weird I think.

Well, that is how the weather has been today on the Central Oregon Coast. We've had several bouts of it, and each time according to my weather station we get almost a quarter inch of rain.

Pretty strange for this area, so I've come up with a name for this weather phenomena, "Colore Condition." (That was taken by combining 3 letters each from Colorado and Oregon, if you hadn't noticed) Pretty crafty, eh? Maybe it should be The Coloreutaona Condition now that I think about it more.

Silly me, you say? No, it's straight forward wisdom from the Thought Dock.

Mom's Missings

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You know, I never really thought much about my Mom until her latter years, and now I find myself thinking about her more than ever.

She taught me so much. The little things that I do almost daily; Like how to mix a can of tuna, sharpen a knife or whittle a stick without cutting myself, shoot an arrow and fire a rifle, catch a ball or a fish, ride a bike and drive a car. She taught it all to me.

More than that, she taught values; Values I try to use every day; Like mean what you say, stand up for what you believe, help those that you can, be proud of America, pay your taxes, and repay what you borrow. She was always there for me.

But I was not always there for her and I regret that now. I could make excuses, but it simply boiled down to selfishness on my part. Too selfish to call her on her birthday, too busy to tell her I love her on Mother's Day, and too selfish to take time from my life to visit with her more often and share my children with her.

I know all that now, but I am glad to have had the opportunity to recognize my errs and to make ammends with her before it was too late.

I'm sorry to bore you guys with this stuff. I'm sure that most of you loved your mothers as well. But on this Mother's Day, I only wish I would have loved my Mom more when I had the chance.

I love you Mom!
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I got Mine for Free!!

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While watching the morning news (Fox News with the beautiful Megyn Kelly of course!), two consecutive commercials came on.

The first depicted a man who had apparently over indulged in a life time of potato chips and Fat Burgers and developed diabetes. He was happy to say that he got a new blood glucose machine that was provided to him for free by Medicare.

The second commercial had a woman sitting on an electric wheel chair while she folded her laundry. Her thighs smothered the contraption to the point that I couldn't even tell what color it was. But the nearly flat tires looked like they were white walls. She was excited to tell me about how the machine had changed her life and exclaimed, "And I got mine for free!"

Let me tell you folks, "There ain't nothing for free!" But there is something called Socialism, and these are but just two examples of it. "There isn't anything wrong with spreading the wealth around." That's what Obummer said. And that's why those things are free for some people. They are not free for everyone.

So someone had to pay for those machines, and it was the someones like me and perhaps, you. Now, I am usually a very caring and giving person. Need help, just ask and I'll chip in more than my share for a good cause. But I don't like the government taking my money, without asking, to redistribute it as it pleases, especially to those that have created their own problems.

I just don't have much sympathy for those that have never contributed, or dug themselves into their own pit, and then expect help. It is free to them because they have never contributed anything. And these are just two people that I'm talking about. I won't go on. but just look around. And now they're even talking about giving the Gitmo terrorists welfare if they are not convicted and released into America.

Sorry, I need to get away from the TV and out to the Thought Dock. It's depressing in here!
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National Prayer Day

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This morning, bright and early (even before I collected my thoughts from the Thought Dock), I attended a community meeting on Natural Prayer Day. Several hundred Christians representing most of our area's churches attended. It was amazing to see the clergy of our community, not competing against one another, but united with each other toward one common goal; introducing God's love to people who don't know Him. Following a pancake/sausage breakfast, we prayed for the leaders of our great Country.

By Executive order, National Prayer Day, has all but been eliminated. Now how is it that President Obama, a man who says he is proud of his Christian faith, turn his back to those of us that pray for him? Does he not think he needs it? He says he prays privately; So what? He needs to remember the thousands of Christians who have been persecuted for spreading God's word, publicly.
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Plant Your Garden

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We live on the Central Oregon Coast. Gardens don't do very well here, I think in part because there seems to be a lack of sunlight and fertile soil. Yet, somehow pine trees do well. Just to get a few flowers planted, I had to buy mud. Actually, they call it river silt loam here, and it's imported from the Central Oregon Valley where there are many farms and gardens. I think that's because there is more sunlight and mud there.

Anyway, my favorite sister-in-law (K) lives along the Central Oregon Valley, and loves to garden (she gets the plug because she is my only living sister-in-law). She is quite good at it, and last year, she raised some squash that were as large as what ever was in those Spamelot dancer's tights!

Getting closer to the point now. Well, K sent me instructions for a garden that will thrive anywhere, even here, and even where you live. I'll share it with you now..

HOW TO PLANT YOUR GARDEN
First, come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses. (I'll substitute Rhoddys in mine because the deer ate my roses that I had planted last year)...

FOR THE GARDEN OF YOUR DAILY LIVING
Plant Three rows of peas:
1. Peace of mind
2. Peace of heart
3. Peace of soul

Plant four rows of squash:
1. Squash gossip
2. Squash indifference
3. Squash grumbling
4. Squash selfishness

Plant four rows of lettuce:
1. Lettuce be faithful
2. Lettuce be kind
3. Lettuce be patient
4. Lettuce really love one another

No Garden is without turnips:
1. Turnip for meetings
2. Turnip for service
3. Turnip to help one another

To conclude your garden, ou must have thyme:
1. Thyme for each other
2. Thyme for family
3. Thyme for friends

Water freely with patience and cultivate with love. There is much fruit in your garden because you reap what you sow.
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First Thought - Birthday

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I think I was conducting some heavy duty Internet research a few days ago, when my wife announced that she was taking me to Spamelot for my birthday. I replied, "Uh OK," and simply returned to my work.

I was at the Thought Dock sometime later and I wondered Now, where did she say we were going? Sandlot? No, that was a baseball movie and I didn't think it was filmed in Oregon. Salem lot? No, although Salem is kinda close, I think that's something witchcrafty and that couldn't be. What did she say? Shamalot? No, that's the Sham Wow as seen on TV. I just couldn't remember.

So, on Birthday morning, I had to ask her what the agenda was. She said the plan was that after church, we were going to Eugene to see the matinee showing of Spamelot. "A movie?" I asked as I hadn't heard of it. "No," she said, "it's a play!" She described it as a musical comedy spoof about King Arthur and said that we were driving there with our friends, the G's.

Holy crap! Now, that's what I've always wanted to do for my birthday. A dream I thought that would never come true. But it had.

Actually, I enjoyed the costumes, sets, singing, and some of the dancing. The only thing is, was that all of the actors were dressed in their bright colorful leotards, with socks or such stuffed in their crotches, to give them an appearance of a manly and studly Knight of the Round Table. I just don't care for that crap.

Soon, it was over though, and we went to dinner. Now, that's what birthdays are for! It was great. And following dinner, we stopped at my favorite Do it Yourself store (aka Lowes). We could have just celebrated my birthday there!

All in all, it was a special day that I will not likely soon forget (or should it be forget soon). Sorry, I'm still got that song from the play, "I'm not yet dead," going through my head. Or was it, "I'm not dead yet?" Whatever it was.....

So, now that I know how to do special things for birthdays, I think I'll take my wife fishing for hers. I know she will just love it!

The Thought Dock.
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What's in a Dock?

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I never ever dreamed that I would ever, ever live in a place like this. A waterfront home on a quiet lake nestled in a forest.

But it was The Dock that intrigued me most. It was the icing on the cake. My very own private dock where I could fish from, launch a boat, or bake in the sun. Some of you know The Dock personally.

I believe The Dock was built many years ago from lumber harvested on the site. The wood was cut from heavy logs, which became water logged and springy. It extended only about 20 feet from the shoreline and the water was less than a few feet deep at the end. It seemed unsafe to even walk on, and there was no way I could get my ski boat to it. I couldn't even fish from it because the Lilly pads consumed the water just in front of The Dock. I thought it was rickety and just had to be rebuilt.

Now that the house is mostly finished, I've been spending more time on The Dock. I've learned that there is much more to The Dock. I've found how to cast over the Lillies to fish, and now have a flat bottomed fishing boat that will handle the shallow water. We also have a peddle boat to go out and watch the Ospreys fish. And I've realized I'm too old to water ski, so we'll likely trade that for some other toy.

I've enjoyed The Dock more lately even though I have not fished or boated from it recently. It has become my special place. A place where I can be alone, among the solitude of God's creations, just to think and thank. The drive to rebuild it is not so great now, because it is perfect to me just the way it is (but I still might fix it up some day).

I know some of you have learned as much about me as I have learned about me in the past few months. I owe the brilliance in me that you see to the "Thought Dock." Like Mount Sinai was to Moses, the Thought Dock is to me.
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An Untold Benefit

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There are many reasons to have frequent medical and dental visits.

And, I'm sure that most of you know most of the reasons.

But here is one that comes to my mind that you might not have thought of:

The absence of current and accurate medical and dental records make it very difficult for law enforcement to identify your remains in the advent of a natural disaster, murder, or just plain "lost in the woods."

Support your local Police. A reduction of the hours spent on your identification could result in a reduction of taxes for your heirs.

Meanwhile....Back to The Dock.
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She is Back

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That lovely, loving, funny, comforting, and cuddling wife of mine has returned home. Our home. I missed her, but she doesn't think so. She missed me even more, but won't admit it. And so things go. I didn't get a chance to thoroughly clean the house while she was gone. There were just too many movies and ball games to watch. But I did make a dent in it.

Aside from the ever growing annoyances of air travel, she had a nice time. Time with her old family, and time with our new family that was brought to us through her son's marriage. She said the visit itself was incredible and was the best ever. But she has come to realize that SoCal, aside from family, friends and memories, is no longer for her. I feel the same as well.

Anyway, she is gratefull to those that made her trip so nice, and regrets not having the time to spend time with more of our SoCal friends.

Now, she's back at work while it drizzles at The Dock.

Torture Poll

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Well, the Torture Poll is closed and I want to thank you all very much for taking part in it by giving your honest answer. In case you did not see the results before I removed it, there were a total of 7 votes cast; 6 of which were in some form of the "yes" category.

Now, a yes is a yes, no matter how you condition it. So it came out that 86% of you would torture someone to save someone else's life. Now, at first glance, I thought my poll was flawed because it is nearly opposite of what the American people publicly express.

But it is not flawed. The fact is that when asked publicly for their opinion, by far most Americans condemn any kind of torture. But they all know, deep inside, that they would do it without hesitation to save a loved one, and most any other innocent human being.

But the same is true about so many other of our feelings. People cried out publicly when they saw the cops beat Rodney King into submission, but at their dinner table most said they would have shot him to death.

People cried out publicly when they heard about the teacher duct taping her out of control grade school student to his chair, but in their living room, they laughed about it and said the child probably deserved it.

People cry out publicly when they hear about a family of four that were killed by a drunken driver, but drive home in private after slurping their cocktails in a tavern.

People contribute publicly to the mentally ill lady begging for help in front of the grocery store, but sneer as they walk away and hope that she would just leave their neighborhood. And people are kind to the autistic child while in public, but know they would abort an ill fated birth of their own.

And so it goes. Not always is what one says in public is what they will do in private. You know I'm right. And I know I'm right because I've been there and have had the time to study my inner self from the privacy of The Dock.
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Chickening it

Well, my beautiful bubbling wife has left me in the dirt (actually it's sand here) once again. She's gone to SoCal to visit family and party. So, I'm left here doing all the things I normally do. You know, things like feeding, grooming, and cleaning up after the critters, dusting, cleaning floors, windows and toilets. Everything, except the cooking for her. So, I'll get a little break there.

In Those Days, I loved my Mom's pan fried chicken. She would cook it for my birthday every year. Made me feel really special, but thinking back about things, I think we had it about once a week anyway. It must be kind of a dying fad though. I don't know anyone who cooks chicken that way now. Apparently it was pushed aside by BBQ, baked, rotisserie, roasted, or deep fried.

My first exposure to the deep fried stuff was KFC, and then later at Popeye's. KFC is not truly deep fried. I think it is first pressure cooked, then fried, or maybe fried under pressure. And I really liked it....until I saw saw their kitchen while investigating a robbery years ago. Don't think I've eaten much of it since, but I still think it is the best tasting.

Now, when She's gone, things change, and I eat fried chicken. Because She can't stand the smell of it, let alone eat it. So, as planned, almost as soon as I dropped her off at the runway, I headed for Freddy's to get some fried chicken. I ate it for both lunch at the river, then again for dinner. It's almost gone. Might finish it off for breakfast and might even get some more after that. I think I'll even get some of that cheap macaroni and cheese to make up.

So, sorry to all the health conscience Lisa types out there. You know who you are (because you might even be named Lisa)! The next few days will be filled with low fiber, all fat, high salt, no exercise (except for my everyday normal chores), and maybe an A&W Papa Burger combo (substituting onion rings for fries and adding a large root beer).

Now, that's "Chickening it."
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Where did that come from?

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I wonder about where that came from all the time, especially when I think about people. You know, things like telling lies, cheating, stealing, and being mean to someone.

I really don't think these things are always "learned traits" although I'm sure some are. I remember asking my first born, when she was barely old enough to speak, whether she had pooped in her diaper, and she lied to me. So, where did that come from? There was no one around that could have taught her to lie.

During most of my childhood, I was the eldest sibling. I remember a few times sitting on the chests of my brothers and sisters while holding their arms to the floor with my knees. Then, in order to get back something they had stolen from me, I'd tickle them, or threaten to let a drop of saliva fall from my mouth and into their face. Now, who taught them to steal my stuff, or who taught me how to torture them? I'm not sure about the stealing part, but no one taught me to torture. I think it was just something I figured would work, and it did! So where did that come from?

And the time I placed a gift-wrapped, dead clam into the desk of my 4th grade classmate on a Friday knowing that it would be very stinky when he returned to his desk on Monday. And the time I threw dirt clods at a girl that came to play with my sisters. To this day, I don't even know why I did these things. So where did that come from?

I think we call all attest to incidents such as these at one time or another, especially during our childhood. So then, why did we do it?

I've always been taught that unlike animals, humans don't have instincts. I think that is hogwash. We have many natural reactions to sudden instances, which for the most part, can not be controlled effectively. And that is an instinct. In other words, our instinct would make us duck at the sound of a gunshot.

I also think that we are born with the ability to lie, cheat, and be mean. That's not to say that some of those traits are also learned or are improved with experience. But, I think we are inherently born with these things and must be taught to overcome them. Your thoughts?

By the way, relaxing by Sittin' on the Dock of the Lake is a learned trait. And I learn fast.
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Blue

Oregon
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Sky
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Above The Dock

Colorings

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We got our first color television in about 1964. They had only been out just a few years then and there were very few television shows in color. It was really primitive, and sometimes it was better just to watch the show in black and white.

Soon thereafter, most anything in grey scale seemed to go by the wayside. Gone were the movies, comics, snapshot film, stripped suits, and saddle shoes. Most anything black and white was gone.

Except......Newspapers. It was not until about 1972 that a newspaper appeared on my doorstep with its first color photograph on the cover. Why then did something so seemingly simple to do, take so long? After all, we even got color magazines, and coloring books long before the newspapers adapted to color.

Well, it's because they just refused to improve, and it's for that very same reason that so many newspapers have gone broke in recent years. And, I hope the all go broke. They are so arrogant. In this fast paced world, new is obsolete even before it can be printed. No one lists their wares in the classified section because it is so expensive and reaches so few people. But there is still room for newspapers, but they need to change their ways, and I don't think they will.

That's just what happens when you become stale and arrogant. Wake up General Motors and the like. It might be sad; but you're next.

Bright blue skies above The Dock today.

The Bainbridge Account

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I received the following from a source within law enforcement. I have not verified the authenticity, but thought it was both interesting and accurate. Sorry for all the acronyms, but I think you can sort them out enough to figure out the context. Enjoy as I did.


Having spoken to some SEAL pals here in Virginia Beach yesterday and asking why this thing dragged out for 4 days, I got the following:


1. BHO wouldn't authorize the DEVGRU/NSWC SEAL teams to the scene for 36 hours going against OSC (on scene commander) recommendation.

2. Once they arrived, BHO imposed restrictions on their ROE that they couldn't do anything unless the hostage's life was in "imminent" danger.

3. The first time the hostage jumped, the SEALS had the raggies all sighted in, but could not fire due to ROE restriction.

4. When the navy RIB came under fire as it approached with supplies, no fire was returned due to ROE restrictions. As the raggies were shooting at the RIB, they were exposed and the SEALS had them all dialed in.

5. BHO specifically denied two rescue plans developed by the Bainbridge CPN and SEAL teams.

6. Bainbridge CPN and SEAL team CDR finally decide they have the OpArea and OSC authority to solely determine risk to hostage. 4 hours later, 3 dead raggies.

7. BHO immediately claims credit for his "daring and decisive" behaviour.


As usual with him, it's BS. So per our last email thread, I'm downgrading Oohbaby's performace to D-. Only reason it's not an F is that the hostage survived. Read the following accurate account.


Philips’ first leap into the warm, dark water of the Indian Ocean hadn’t worked out as well. With the Bainbridge in range and a rescue by his country’s Navy possible, Philips threw himself off of his lifeboat prison, enabling Navy shooters onboard the destroyer a clear shot at his captors — and none was taken.


The guidance from National Command Authority — the president of the United States, Barack Obama — had been clear: a peaceful solution was the only acceptable outcome to this standoff unless the hostage’s life was in clear, extreme danger.

The next day, a small Navy boat approaching the floating raft was fired on by the Somali pirates — and again no fire was returned and no pirates killed. This was again due to the cautious stance assumed byNavy personnel thanks to the combination of a lack of clear guidance from Washington and a mandate from the commander in chief’s staff not to act until Obama, a man with no background of dealing with such issues and no track record of decisiveness, decided that any outcome other than a “peaceful solution” would be acceptable.

After taking fire from the Somali kidnappers again Saturday night, the on scene commander decided he’d had enough. Keeping his authority to act in the case of a clear and present danger to the hostage’s life and having heard nothing from Washington since yet another request to mount a rescue operation had been denied the day before, the Navy officer — unnamed in all media reports to date — decided the AK47 one captor had leveled at Philips’ back was a threat to the hostage’s life and ordered theNSWC team to take their shots. Three rounds downrange later, all three brigands became enemy KIA and Philips was safe.


There is upside, downside, and spinside to the series of events over the last week that culminated inyesterday’s dramatic rescue of an American hostage. Almost immediately following word of the rescue, the Obama administration and its supporters claimed victory against pirates in the Indian Ocean and [1] declared that the dramatic end to the standoff putpaid to questions of the inexperienced president’s toughness and decisiveness. Despite the Obama administration’s (and its sycophants’) attempt to spin yesterday’s success as a resultof bold, decisive leadership by the inexperienced president, the reality is nothing of the sort. What should have been a standoff lasting only hours — as long as it took the USS Bainbridge and itsteam of NSWC operators to steam to the location — became an embarrassing four day and countingstandoff between a ragtag handful of criminals with rifles and a U.S. Navy warship.
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Ethics, Christianity, Civil Liberties, and Justice

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Many years ago as a young police officer, I was competing for a promotion. During an interview, I was asked whether I would torture a captured kidnapper for ransom suspect to learn the hidden location of five school children that would die within hours if not rescued. Without hesitation, I said, "Yes!" Well, not only did I not get the promotion, but I scored near the bottom of the candidate list. It was years before I ever tried to promote again.

Today, in public (like for a promotion), I would answer that question quite differently, but in my heart I know that I would not hesitate to torture anyone if I knew it would save an innocent person's life.

Certainly, Ethics, Christianity, Civil Liberties, and Justice all play a significant weight in a very difficult personal decision. Should 24's Jack Bauer, torture some one to save the President, or countless other innocent Americans? Should anyone torture an admitted radical Islamic terrorist to prevent a future strike?

Why is it that we publicly chastise the CIA for torturing a terrorist by putting a bug into his cell him to get him to talk; while at the same time, we praise the naval sharpshooters who took the lives of three pirates to save one American, and call them heroes?

I just don't get it. Is it not the responsibility for our government to provide us with security? Our laws are founded upon Ethics, Christian fundamentals, Civil Liberties, and Justice to give us the absolute right to self defense. So what's the difference when a local cop shoots a deranged person holding a knife to an Innocent's throat, or choking a person to get him to tell you about his accomplices's plan to plant a bomb at Dodger Stadium?

What say you? Since most of you will not comment publicly, please take the poll to the left. I won't look to see who you are. I'll just wait out by The Dock.
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Stocks vs Slots

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Well there have been a heck of a lot of people, who had a heck of a lot of money, invested in their retirement accounts. And a heck of a lot of those people lost a heck of a lot of their money. And there are a heck of a lot of people that have been forced from retirement to return to work (if they can find it). And there are a heck of a lot of people that can not retire as they had planned.

But, there are a heck of a lot of people that moved their investments from the stock market to liquid savings accounts, and those people still have a heck of a lot of money that they are itching to re-invest.

Interest rates have dropped very low, but the banks still refuse to make new loans. And because the banks now have too much money on hand, they pay those heck of a lot of people who have a heck of a lot of money in the back, next to nothing in interest.

One can not just sit on their heck of a lot of money and let it lose value to inflation. So, there are a heck of a lot of people lined up to jump back into the stock market. And as they do, the stocks will be driven up rise once again and a heck of a lot of people will make a heck of a lot of money.

But when nothing else but the sheer volume of stocks sales drives the price, the market becomes a bubble, and it will burst again. And that circle will go unbroken.

So, if you have a heck of a lot of money, and you put it into stocks again, be prepared to exit quickly. And exit well before the balloon shows a sign of bursting, or you will lose a heck of a lot of money, again..

So, you might ask, "W what will I do?" I'm going to the local casino to invest my heck of a lot of quarters ($20). For me, it's less stressful than the stock market, has about the same odds, but offers more fun!

So, I should be at The Dock within this hour.
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Coffee, Tea, and Me.

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It's my blog and I want it to be "and me" instead what you say is the proper way "or Me?" in my title.


So, what's all the protests all about? I don't think the protesters themselves knew why they were there. Then you got some CNN bimbo shoving a microphone in some dummy's face while she fired tax statistics at him. He didn't know what to say because he didn't know why he was even there. She was as much as an activist as anyone there. What happened to just reporting the facts? Many showed up simply because they had no jobs and were tired of searching for one. Others thought it would be nice just be a part of some historic march against the government. Kinda like the marches led by MLK. Fox News set it all up very cleverly as an attack on Obamamamma and Nancy Pelosi thought that was unfair. But it was fine for her to hammer Bush and the Gop. Could you imagine being married to her?


Well, I prefer coffee anyway. Leave the tea for the Brits. And I'm all for hammering Obamamamma, but for the right things. Like apologizing for America's arrogance toward other countries, until he took over.


Like telling the middle east countries that my Country was not founded on Christianity.


Like overturning a law that prevented medical personnel from doing an abortion against their religious beliefs.


Like opening the door to cloning a human life, only to then kill it in order to extend the life of another.


Like agreeing to help France determine whether the United States conducted torture inappropriately, and place the then US Attorney General on trial for it. And all of a sudden we are to be friends with Iran, North Korea, China, Russia, and Cuba.


Like admitting that under his plan, 44% of Americans don't pay Federal taxes at all,so that the remaining 56% can carry them.


Like all of the past administrations were wrong, and only he has the answers?


He needs to sink his head for a long while at The Dock.

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All Men Are Created Equal

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Have you ever wondered why Thomas Jefferson chose those words for the opening of our Constitution? Things could have been much different had he thought a bit more about such a strong statement.

Ever since, men have been struggling to prove them better than the other. They knock each other out in a ring, compete to see who is the faster swimmer or runner, the highest jumper, the better golfer, the more brilliant chess player, or who can drink the most beer. The competition never ends.

Now, had it been written, "That all men are created beautiful," there would have been far fewer wars, competitions and hangovers. Because that is a finite statement and would not be argued among men.

Look at the world around you. Recently, right from the comfort of The Dock, I've observed ducks, geese, deer, and now today, a wild turkey. Now, I know that men have in the past consumed Wild Turkey while debating whether they were better than the other, but for me, watching that turkey drove the point home that men are beautiful. It's true and evident where ever you look.

But the wild turkey shows it best. Although the male Mallard duck, Canadian goose, Coastal Deer, or the Red Headed woodpecker, are much prettier than the female of the species, none show it better than the Wild turkey.

With his bright blue head held proudly above his plump body, his bright red feet strut in a perfectly timed cadence, while his female follows a few paces behind. And when those feathers spread, there is no doubt who is beautiful.

So call me a turkey if you want. There will me no fight though. No arguments. No competition. Because I am beautiful!
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Harley Harmony

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The Model Flhtcu, better known as the Harley Davidson Classic Ultraglide, has been cleaned, polished, and tuned. It's ready to ride and I'm ready to ride it. The weatherman says it will be clear and near 70 soon and will remain so through the weekend. I'm not waiting for the weekend. I'll ride tomorrow.

So many country roads to ride. The warm tan colored sands of the beach will quickly turn to green as I ride the back roads through the forrest pass into Eugene. Actually it's part business trip because I have to go to Lowes (yes one just opened here a few weeks ago) to measure the modular metal cabinets I'll use to build my workshop. Don't have the funds to buy them now, but with the measurements I can build around them, then slide them in on a Sumday.

No time for The Dock tomorrow. Ride on!!

Why do the Math?

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From my limited knowledge of general math, I know that math is finite. One can not debate whether 2+2=4. One can only question whether the formula used derive the conclusion is correct, and that the calculations were performed accurately. Although I am amazed with math, I really prefer less finite subjects. So, why do the math?

I've been a paid investigator for 87% of my adult life (check the math). And I am a skeptic. Now, I've learned that some things people testify to are fact, other things are lies, and some (most) are a perception (Point of View).

Most of the time, I never saw the incident occur. And, even if I did, I know what I saw could still be my perception. So, in an effort to determine what really happened, I had to do the math to determine the weight and credibility of the witnesses account. Then I would compare the accounts to one another and consider the evidence before making my conclusion. And then, a jury would do their math by studying my methods to come to their conclusion.

A seemingly credible witnesses statement that he/she looked through a window to see the act occur could be proved a fact, perception, or even a lie by doing the math. You assess the validity by asking the time of day, lighting conditions, whether he wore glasses, and visiting the area to determine whether the window offered an unobstructed view of the incident.

So you ask, "What is your point with this?"

I am the author of this blog, and I love to promote debate. I write only what I believe to be fact, but admit some of what I write could be perception. I have never written anything that I know to be a lie. My writings are designed to make you think, and to create dialogue.

As an example, if I describe an incident that occurred 53 years ago, and you are but 50 years old, then it should be obvious why you can't remember things the way I do. But you can still form a conclusion by doing the math. If you were there, ask yourself how could it be that our perspectives differ. Consider the evidence, my credibility, and anyone else's perspective. If you were not there, ask others who were. Consider any evidence present, and then come to your conclusion.

Discussions are healthy. Bring your conclusions to the Dock for discussion, but please do your math first. This Dock is for more than just fishing.
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On A Hill Far Away...

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I was forgiven.
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And so were you!
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Happy Easter
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Easter Memories

In Those Days, Easter was a very special time for me. It was Spring and always seemed to be the most beautiful day of the year. It was my Mother's favorite day as well. Every year she made my sisters a new lacy pastel colored dress, and the boys usually got a new shirt or shoes, and a fresh haircut. My Mom would sometimes get a new bonnet, which made her the most beautiful person in my eyes.

We would awake early to search for our very own Easter Basket, and then search for colored eggs to fill the baskets. I was the eldest sibling at home during that time, so naturally I found the most eggs. It was hard to give them up to the youngers as Mom insisted. So they got the ugliest eggs from my find, unless I had found the egg with their name on it.

When I was about 11 or so, after questioning the Easter Bunny's existence for a few years, I announced to Mom that he was just a fake, because I knew that a rabbit could not lay eggs, let alone colored ones. Her response, "Those that don't believe, won't receive," rings in my ears even today. Because that year, I didn't get a basket, and had no where to put the eggs that I found. I cried until the afternoon of that Easter, when Mom called me to the kitchen, where while fixing dinner, she found a basket hidden in the oven. It was mine!!

Then it was off to church where the months of my mother's work paid off for her. She paraded us all in front of everyone. I absolutely hated people pinching my cheeks, and telling me how handsome my bow tie made me look. She was so proud of her children. And then, to a parade if one was held nearby.

Those Easter traditions carried though to my family. Mom tried hard to make each of my daughters a dress, and I bought their Mom a new bonnet, that she never wore. And the family Easter traditions continued, except for that bonnet, which remained in its case, on a shelf in the closet, to make me wonder whether she would wear it the following year. From the beginning, she said she would never wear it because she didn't like it, but I always thought it was as beautiful as the ones my mom wore. Perhaps that was the reason.

Enjoy your Easter in your way. No more baskets, bunnies, or bonnets for me (I'll miss the deviled eggs). We'll praise the Lord in our way, and watch as others celebrate their way. It's all good if you include the Lord in your life.

The Intervention

During the last week of August 2008, my wife and I visited Colorado. Since our eldest daughter-in-law had just spent a week or so with us in Oregon, we chose to stay with our eldest daughter for our Colorado visit. As it turned out, our eldest daughter in law joined in on the fun and stay several days with us at our daughter's house.

It was during that visit, that I was asked to pose for a photo with my grand kids. I thought that was a bit odd (just me and the grand kids), because the grand kid's grandmother, and the grand kid's mothers were also present. So, the picture was taken, and it turned out really nice.

Let me back up a bit. For those of you that don't know, I started smoking when I was about 15, and have smoked for 35 of the last 40 years (I did quit for five years about 15 years ago). Each time I went for a physical, my lungs checked clear, which for me, served as an incentive to continue on. I've always enjoyed smoking, except for the times I've burnt my self, my clothing, or my furniture.

Now I have also been aware that my eldest grand daughter has been praying every day for the past 5 years, that I stop smoking, although she has never mentioned it to me. And my eldest grand son entered a anti-smoking poster contest, and his entry was subsequently selected to become part of a published calender.

Then on October 1, 2008, I get this package in the mail. In it was the a framed photograph taken with my grand children. And attached to it was a caption asking me to extend my life with them by quitting smoking. And included in the package were handwritten notes from my daughter, my daughter-in-law, and each of the grand children. My wife then placed the photo inside the new house, where at that time, I worked on it most every hour I could.

I have to admit that the photograph and letters brought tears to my eyes, but it also really pissed me off. But an intervention is designed to shock the conscience of the subject. I know that because I've orchestrated one my self in the past.

Not a night did pass that I didn't think about the photo and the letters. Every day for 92 days. Then on New Year's Day, I made the effort. I slipped on Day 3 when I found a pack of smokes that I forgot to smoke, so I smoked them over a period of 3 days. Now, it's been 93 smoke free days.

So, thank you guys for doing The Intervention, and thank you everyone else who have been supportive of my efforts to quit.

I'm well on my way to recovery now, but I must admit, a smoke and a cup of coffee at the Dock seems like a good idea right now. I'll just say, "No. No. No."

Finally a Final

Woo Hoo! Yahoo! Cool! Rad! Mad! Fab! Bitchin'! Groovy! Chillin'! Grillin'! Wow! These are just a few of the words that popped into my head yesterday as the County inspector drove away from our new home.

Our home is done as far as he is concerned. Everything that is required by the local building code has been satisfied. So Finally he gave us a Final inspection.

Actually the home is not finished completely. But really, does that ever happen? Seems not. For me there seems to always be a new project, even when I've been in the same place for lots of years.

Structurally and mechanically it is done. But there is still lots of finish stuff to do, like vanity mirrors, sliding closet doors, a linen cabinet, in the master bath, and an upper cabinet in the laundry room, some shelving, and the workshop benches and stuff. We still need to unpack fully, and get some more furniture for each of the bedrooms, dining, and living room (just about the whole house).

And that is why I'm jazzed to Finally get a Final. With that, we will try to get a home loan to finish things off. Our lack of money has been the big holdup in progress for the last few months.

But it will get done. Today is a rainy day, so I think I'll just think about what I have to do next.

That Old Fisherman

Across the Lake from the Dock is another dock that serves a group of six homes. Those homes appear to be owned by snowbirds because no one lives in them during the winter. Well, now they are returning, and one is that old fisherman that I spoke about yesterday.

I like watching people, and I'm watching him as we speak. The dock from which he fishes, is newer, better, and longer, than the Dock. I dream of rebuilding the Dock like the other dock.

Here's what I find odd..... After arriving at his dock, he sets up his combination chair/tackle box (almost like the one I got for my birthday) at the dock, near the shore. The fisherman then carries his fishing rod out to the end of his dock, which extends about 40 feet into the Lake. Then, he casts his line even deeper toward the center of the Lake. That part makes sense..

But after casting his line, he makes slack in the line as he walks back to his combination chair/tackle box where he sits quietly waiting for the big one. What I don't understand is why he just doesn't sit and wait for the big one at the end of his dock. The water is calm, not very deep, and the dock has a railing. Yesterday, he spent 4 hours fishing in the morning, must have taken a nap, and then returned for a few more hours in the evening. I have yet to see him reel one in.

But then again, I've sat for hours at the Dock and did absolutely nothing. He must also be retired.

Do You Know That Feeling?

Now, if you have just gotten home from work you'll know what I mean. That feeling when all the kids greet you at the door, and the pets are wagging their tails at your feet, and the smell of the home cooked meal that soon will be served, and that soft kiss from your spouse, and time to wind down from a busy day with a glass of wine. Do you know that feeling?

Well, that's the feeling I've had ever since we moved into our home. These last few days were really like that. Fresh pancakes with blueberries for breakfast. Burning some downed trees, and I mean logs, kinda like a beach bonfire. It was an all dayer, but so relaxing watching it burn from the Dock. A spring tune up of my bicycle (only because my Harley wouldn't start), and a few other small chores, but only those that I wanted to do, and then dinner out with my wife and friends. Today, I've watched an old man fishing on the dock across the lake. I don't think he's caught anything, but I'm sure he feels much like I. He reminds me of my daughter's grand father. And now, there is a made from scratch chocolate chip cake coming out of the oven!

There is nothing like retirement. It's kinda like coming home from work, but it never starts and it never ends. I hope those that haven't all ready, get the chance to know that feeling someday themselves.

So, what will today be like, you ask? I really don't know. Probably much like yesterday, and kind of like tomorrow, I spoze. What day is it anyway? Rockin' at the Dock..

Lotsas Lisas

Not since junior high school, have I become friends with anyone named Lisa. Until recently.

Soon after arriving in this coastal town, my wife me Lisa G. They hit it off, and before long, we were doing things as couples. Lisa led us to church, which has been a blessing. We've have dined out together, camped out together, rode Harleys together, played games together, shared Christmas and Thanksgivings together, and laughed together. Some of my Followers have all ready met Lisa G. and the rest of you will too when you visit the Dock.

Lisa N's father lived in the house across the street from us. After his passing two years ago, Lisa and her family began sharing the summer months at the house. More recently, she has been using it as a get-a-way from the city. She bought a duck spotter's book and spends time trying to identify the various species of ducks on the Lake. She has 7 cats and two dogs, so my wife invited her to visit the Humane Society in town. She loved it, especially the cattery. It's nice to have neighbors once in a while.

Most recently, we met Lisa O. while redeeming freebee coupons at the local casino. She, somehow, recognized my last name when her husband spoke about me some 25 years ago. Although we had never met before, she remembered that I once worked with her husband in SoCal. He left the jobs many years ago. We had breakfast together, and I'm sure that they will also make good friends.

You all know, I am a loner. I could be perfectly happy lazing on the Dock, or building stuff, or exploring things all by myself. These Lisas encourage me to do stuff with others, which I have learned I actually like. And they have led us to meet even more friends, which I have learned we actually need. Thank you Lisas!

And now I'm going to the Dock, by myself.

In Just a Very Short Time

Uh Oh..... You Know...

In just a very short time, I have gone from just reading other persons blogs, to other persons writing about me in their blogs. Some Followers even go so far as to ask me to blog more often. I think they urn for my wisdom.

Now, I really can't attest to the number of other people writing about me because for me to get that account, I'd have to read millions of other blogs to see who wrote about me. And that would take away my time to blog, and starve my readers, including you, from receiving my wisdom.

Now, I do know of one particular Follower who has asked for more. And, I know where there is one, there are more. So, that puts me in parity with President Obama's popularity.

As a side note, I tossed and turned all last night. Not only because my wife had a return of her dreadful whooping cough, but because of what I had written in yesterday's blog. At issue, was whether I should apologize or retract my opinions due to the risk of offending someone? Absolutely not. People love smut. Now maybe I'll lose Obama from my fan base, but I'll gain many more in return, simply by speaking true.

Speaking of Truth... I'm off to church, but I'll be back at the Dock soon..

Here We Go!

Thanks to you that took part in my poll. From it, I was able to verify that what I had suspected, was true. I have many thousands of readers, but only about 5 or so true Followers. Just like I thought, my numbers are close to that of our President's.

Speaking of Obama, I found a most interesting article in the news. Although his name was never mentioned, his influence was everywhere. Here are some of the highlights, but you can actually read it for yourself here: http://theroot.com/views/even-further-behind-joneses?GT1=38002
My responses are in Italics.

For every dollar of wealth owned by the typical white family, the African American family has only one thin dime. That makes sense because only 10 percent of Blacks actually work for their wealth. The statistics likely do not include wealth derived by stealing, selling dope, or committing welfare frauds.

At a two-day conference called the Color of Wealth summit, it was stressed that our future depends on the inclusion of all Americans in opportunities to build wealth. Obama himself must have picked the name for the summit.

The biggest predictor of the future economic status of a child is the net worth of the child’s parents. Historically, white families have enjoyed more government support and tax-paid subsidies than Blacks. Really? How did the summit conclude that? Pass along the bong and see what else they conclude. But, if true, my children might become wealthy.

For example, in home ownership, during the Depression, the Home Owners’ Loan Corporation was formed to rescue families whose homes were in foreclosure. Not a single loan went to a family of color. That's because Blacks didn't own homes in the first place.

After World War II, of the 67,000 mortgages issued under the GI Bill, 66,900 went to white veterans. And today, White families are five times as likely as a family of color to have a bank account. I would think that to get a mortgage or a bank account, one would have to earn sufficient assets by working. I'm sure that home purchases obtained through narcotic sales are not included in the summit's findings.

Rules in our tax code have strengthened the hand of those who already have assets. You can get a tax deduction for the interest paid on home mortgages. But if you own a home and make too little to itemize, the Home Mortgage Interest Deduction does not help you at all. So, how is this disparity, as it seems to imply? It equally applies to all. There really are some White home owners that can't claim the deduction, namely me!

We need a Financial Product Safety Commission, to act against discriminatory lending policies. We need to revise the mortgage interest deduction so low-income homeowners (Black) are able to benefit. And mandating that new schools, transportation and commercial projects, be located only in areas with racially inclusive zoning policies (Black) would do much to create and grow neighborhoods of opportunity (Black).

Building wealth is essential to the American promise of opportunity regardless of the accident of one’s birth. And a disproportionate number of Black births are by accidents.

It’s time to start an honest game with a new deck. All of our futures depend on it. The Insight Center for Community Economic Development in Oakland, Calif. organized the Color of Wealth 2009 Policy Summit, held in Washington on March 23 and 24.

I've walked so far to see that my children (at least one of which was planned) can receive my wealth, which was passed to me by my wealthy father, and his wealthy immigrant father. I now only need to sit on the Dock and cool those aching feet in the Lake for a bit.

You Know Who You Are!

When I began this blog, I did so only in an effort for me to understand who I am. I believe that by putting my thoughts to words helps me to that goal. So, I invited two or three persons to check my blog out.

But as time passed, I realized there are many Followers who read this blog because they too are trying to understand who I am. It is apparent that the original people that I invited to the blog, became active Followers, and they have told their friends, who told their friends, and their friends told their friends. It's incredible to realize the fan base that I have developed so soon. I think I have even built a fan base of Followers equal to that of Barrack Obama.

Problem is; I can't actually verify the number of my Followers out there, because not everyone comments each time they visit, and there is no counter system in place to see the actual number of hits like E-Bay has. Now, I know there are at least two Followers, but I reason reason to believe there are many thousands, perhaps millions more, out there as well.

I sense that I've had one particular avid Follower that seems intrigued by me, but who prefers anonymity and has never left a comment. I know that he/she is reading this. Only You Know Who You Are!

So, in an effort to determine my true popularity, please participate in the poll at the left. And no, it doesn't expose your identity to me. I'll be waiting for the results from the Dock.

Shipwrecks, Sea Shells, and Whales

I've always liked the beach. Not for swimming or surfing so much, but for the intersting things I've seen at the beach.

As a young teen, we lived on the Right Coast and that was my first real exposure to a beach. I loved to play beneath the boardwalk at Coney Island while searching for lost things dropped by those above. I discovered surf fishing then, and actually swam in the warm water current during a winter snow.

I've visited my share of beaches. Beaches in Florida, beaches in Louisanna, beaches in Texas, Bahama beaches, California beaches, Hawaiian beaches, and now the beaches of the Pacific Northwest.

Oregon beaches are really different than the ones I've visited in the past. They are not much for swimming, although some do. They are mostly for walking, exploring, finding stuff, and appreciating nature. And you can drive a car right on most of the beaches here.

I've seen but a few that dare to wear a bikini, or a bathing suit of any kind. No, no one is nude, but more likely wearing Levis instead. And there is lots of stuff to discover, recover, or just let be. It's common to find intact shells, starfish, and unusual driftwood pieces. I've not seen a condom, or hypodermic needle, a dirty diaper, or many empty beer bottles.

Low tide, following a storm, is the best to beachcomb. Sand Dollars the size of your palm, colorfull dinner plate sized starfish cover the rocks, while crabs hide nearby from the birds lurking above. Driftwood pieces of all sizes, some apparently hundreds of years old, are waiting to be picked up and fashioned into artwork. I'll see people digging for clams, fishing the surf, or riding a sail buggy through the winds and for miles down the sand.

The bigger storms really stur things up. This year, at least two shipwrecks have appeared on the beach. Temporarily uncovered by the ocean's forces, they reveal themselves briefly only to be taken back to the depths with the next storm. Historians work fevorishly to identify the wrecks and preserve the artifacts before the wreck leaves, usually in the next storm. Recently, 4 cannons from the same ship were found on the beach, in three different places, across 60 miles of coastline. Amazing..

Oregon law declares all natural waterways are public domain up to the hide tide or high water shoreline. That means that you can walk the shoreline of any beach, lake, river, or stream without fear of tresspassing, including the shoreline of my front yard. And Oregon has a finder keepers law that allows you to keep anything you find along a shoreline providing it is not stolen, you register it, and have the means to recover it in it's entirety (ie: you can not cut pieces off a shipwreck, but you can take a cannon lying next to it in the sand, if you have the means).

Volunteers, organized by the State, watch and monitor the coast. Each volunteer is assigned a segment of beach and is required to monitor it regularily and report their findings to the State. It seems that there are beach clean up days every weekend. Therefore, you'll find little trash on the beach, and most of what you do find originates from other parts of the world.

A few weeks ago,coastal observers discovered a 55 foot whale lying dead on the beach in our town. Unlike in 1970, where a dead whale was blown up with dynamite by the town experts, it was quickly burried with a bulldozer. Check ou this old video clip to see that whale explosion, and the ensuing side effects. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_t44siFyb4

Visit the Dock and I'll take you to the beach.

It's Gone!

"What," you might ask, "Is gone?" Well, the Taco Soup is gone, and with one last bite, so will the cornbread.

One week ago today (seems like it was just the other day), my wife, and her daughter-in-law, made the Taco Soup. That evening, we served it, with cornbread, to a bunch of friends that dropped by to meet our family and tour the new house. I'm guessing about 15 bowls were served, and many spoon fulls went to those that only wanted to taste it.

Then we had it again for lunch and snacking the next day. Friday, my wife took the remaining stock to work and served it all day from a crock pot to the co-workers, friends, and customers dropping off their pets for medical care.

So that polished off the Taco Soup, but it took me until this morning to get to the last of the cornbread. Talk about getting your money's worth.

Well, an appointment with the tax guy is in a few hours. Then I got to do the grocery shopping for my wife. Seems she's come down with a cold this past weekend, so I've been pampering her until she regains her strength. She always gets hit much harder with these bugs and takes much longer to recover from them than I do. I think she has the whooping cough this time, but hopefully with the pampering I provide (doing all the cooking/cleaning/shopping/etc) she'll bounce back soon. She loved the chicken soup I prepared for her, but gets bummed because I so seldom fall ill.

Oh well... I'll find some time for the Dock anyway.

The Tree

You know, while my eldest daughter was visiting here the other day, she commented on The Tree that she saw through the window, and how different it was. The conversation soon went in another direction. She was referring to the smaller tree on the left in the photos.

I had seen The Tree many times in the past, but had paid it little attention.

But this morning, as I sat with my coffee, I looked at it again. This time, I saw so much more. Look at it closely and you immediately will notice that it is about 25% shorter than the one next to it, although they appear to be close to the same age. But, following it's main stem, you will note that for no apparent reason (no lightning strikr or broken limb), the stem suddenly makes a 90 degree turn to the left for a few feet.

Then it makes another 90 degree turn and grows downward a few more feet. Then it makes yet another 90 degree turn and follows a path right back, but below where it first began it's path. Then, as it collides with the main stem. it grows true and straight skyward and blossoms into a near perfect Christmas Tree, even more beautiful than the tree growing taller and straighter right next to it.

The Tree reminds me of my life where I grew quickly and straight for a number of years, very successful to some, but I was without branches or blossoms. Then suddenly, my life changed. A plateau for a few years, then a downturn, followed by another plateau. And finally I grew straight and true again, but better than I was before. Like a Christmas Tree, I now feel full of life and happiness. Although, perhaps not as tall as I would have been, but much fuller and better instead.

You see, although I began with a firm foundation and a faith in Christ, I soon became too busy for Him. I grew without him, but without blossoms. I struggled for a while before casting Him entirely from my life. But, He has always stood by me, even as I tumbled downward. And when I asked for His forgiveness, and invited him back into my life, my life grew upward once again, and better than ever.

I had once thought about removing The Tree to widen our view of the Lake. But now, if I thin anything out, The Tree will stay. I will share it as a testimony of Faith to everyone who visits the Dock.

Really Wowing!

Wow! For me, that is, what this past week was, when my children, and their children, visited the Dock.

You know, many people enjoy and remember their family visits by the fun times, playing games, visiting attractions, over eating, revisiting memories, and catching with the rest of the family happs. And we did all of that.

But for me, it is most wowing to watch how the roots that I helped plant have matured. And by no means is that meant to say that I am the reason for their success, but it is comforting to think that I was a part of it. And as I mature with my family, the more I learn and love it.

With each visit I learn and love so much more than the previous. I learned that I can actually communicate very well with a 2 year old, if I only take the time to listen. And that her favorite colors are really similar to her mother's, and her mother's mother color favorites.

I learned that my daughter's husband can call me Dad, and that I can think of him as my son. He has shown me the value of being the true leader of a family, rather than the dictator that I was. He learned that I don't know everything, and that I increasingly turn to him for advice. I learned that you don't always get a crab with every trap set, but that it was because of his bad luck.

I realized that my eldest grandson is not always buried in a book, but likes to chop wood with an axe. And that my eldest grand daughter is beautiful, (some have even commented that there is a resemblance to me), and rocks out to music through her headset as she heads toward becoming a teenager. And that they both love to explore and value the creatures of nature.

I learned that I am much more like my daughter than we care to admit. She learned that I wear a belt with my sweat pants, even though there are no loops. I learned that I can mark my initial "D" to label my bottle cap, but from her perspective it looked like the letter "A" and questioned why.

And I learned that it is lonesome at the Dock without them.

School Books and Stuff..

America invented the computer. Do you ever wonder why then our educational system sucks? Recently a ballot measure asking for additional property tax funding for our schools failed by a large margin, shocking the local school board.

The Board cried that because our community is heavily populated by senior and retired persons, we don't care about the future of the American youth. The board immediately cut the school year, layed off teachers, cut sports, and most of the arts in the elementary schools, and threatened to do the same for junior and senior high schools. That's nuts. How would they expect a student to begin art, music, or sports in junior high, if they never finger painted, sang a song, or played dodge ball in elementary school?

The People replied that they would gladly give the Board more money, if they could be assured that it would be spent appropriately. They said the upper management gets paid too much, take expensive retreats they link to training, and waiste money buying books.

I'm sure most every community across America has a similar problem. But squawking about buying books sounded crazy. Until I thought more about it. The schools claim that it costs hundreds of dollars per student every year for books, only for them to become obsolete within a few years. I don't think elementary school books become out dated quite so fast though. But I do think most other books are obsolete before they are even printed. I believe that once a child has basic reading, writing and arithmatic skills, usually (hopefully) by the 4th grade or so, his books do become very obsolete.

Imagine learning about a country, that by the time you read it, it no longer exists! Or studying chemistry to find a way to make something more green, when the idea has all ready been discussed!

I believe in technology, and I think computers are the way to go. Just think, the laptop I am now using can be purchased for less than $300. If every middle and senior high student were provided with a laptop filled with everything he will study during the term; that could replace most every text book he lugs to school daily. I'm sure the initial cost could be expensive, but they could be updated every year with the latest learning information, and that cost would be small. Imagine have access from your school room or from home, to every book in the school library. It would have to have a big impact on teaching our kids. Why make them wait to get to college before using a computer?

I'm voicing my concern to our local district, and if you agree, please voice yours as well. Gotta get busy to make way for the children's visit. No more Docking today.

Three More

My wonderful child, and her amazing husband, and their amazing children, will be visiting the Dock in just Three More days. How fun will that be?

I'm sure there are other avid Followers of mine that would love to join in. Wouldn't you?


They arrive late into the night of the next weekend day. They will likely be really tired after being up at dawn tending to the amazing children's school events only then to travel here later in the evening. They'll lose an hour of the day when they arrive in the Pacific Time Zone, after all ready losing an hour earlier this week to Daylight Savings Time.


So, we'll pick them up in the Manor on Wheels, and get some sleep. Then, we'll drive a bit to my udda brudda's place and attend the Baptism of his eldest child. Following the celebration and visit, we'll continue on westwardly (or should it be westerly/) to the Central Oregon Coast, and arrive soon thereafter at the Dock for several fun filled days.


We'll go camping for a night in the Forrest at the famous Oregon Dunes. We might go crabbing in the bay, or try a hand at fishing the Lake, or shoot an arrow, or walk the beach, or visit a lighthouse, or experience some fresh seafood, or chop some wood, or just hang out at the Dock and relax with a bowl of Taco Soup.

So, it's not too late to get some discounted tickets and join in on the fun. There's plenty of room, and a local casino for you Paigow addicts. Yipee!

Three

This past week, Ive been working my butt off building a walkway from the front entrance to the driveway and street using Three Rivers Rock. It's a flagstone kind of product that was imported from Colorado. No surprise there since Colorado sure has a lot of beautiful rocks. The Do it Yourself show made it look simple, but I didn't find that to be true. Had I access to those SoCal illegal aliens hanging out at Home Depot, I would have considered renting a few. But there are none here..

Friday evening, the local draw bridge over our Siuslaw River (one of the Three rivers in our hood) opened to allow a fishing vessel to leave the harbor. But it go stuck as it began to close due to an electrical fire. That cut off all the tourists pouring into town from the south, and the sand rail nuts going to the Dunes from the inland areas. A crew was called from 60 miles south to lower the bridge by hand crank. That snarled traffic for Three hours. What a mess.

Saturday evening we went to get a burger at Three Rivers Casino. The coffee shop has a one-pound burger called the Jackpot. It's huge, about the size of an 8 inch frisbee, and a full one inch thick, with fries and fixins.

The casino floor was packed. At first, I thought the Stimulus Plan was surely at work. But then, I realized that most of the patrons, unable to make their rent with the few quarters they have left, stuff them feverishly into the machines hoping for a big one. Then it was announced that someone playing a machine in the new non-smoking section, hit one for 10-Thousand Dollars. And then they announced a Five Million, Two Hundred Thousand pot was awarded just the night before in that very same non-smoking section.

Now I thought the Stimulus Plan was surely working, and there would surely be a third, because 3's were all around me. So, I converted a 20 into quarters and promptly fed a Keno machine to no avail. Guess I should have picked a machine in that Non-smoking section to play, since thanks to the pressures of friends and family, I'm on my way to being smoke free. But the Obama Plan ain't working for me.

Ain't going to the Dock now because it snowed this morning and it's cold there. I wonder what Al Gore is thinking now.

Not a Bear...yet

It's Spring time on the Left Coast. Geese fly in formation to their northerly destinations overhead, while the Lake is hosting a variety of new duckings. Their chicks, now only about the size of a child's fist hang out around the Dock as their mammas and pappas keep a careful eye over them. It's amazing to watch them mature. In a few weeks they will be taught to fly. Watching that is too funny!

Otters make their trips around the Lake and play with one another much like seals do. They always seem to be having a blast. Osprey and Eagles soar above with a watchful eye below, always eager to dine. They have a feast when the Fish and Game plant thousands of trout in the Lake each month. The fishermen show up in droves, but I haven't seen them catch much recently. I guess the water needs to warm a bit.

Seems the Great Blue Herons have moved on, but I don't know where they go. Very soon the bears will awake and the deer will move into the areas looking for the budding rose bushes.

I love to watch nature. God has truly created a fascinating place for us. Every thing and every one has a place and function. I am amazed at His power and grace.

Oops, just as a thankful tear came to my eye thinking about His place, I saw a GBH land in the shallows just a few feet from the Dock. Guess I spoke too soon. Wonder what it's up to?

The sky is a brilliant blue and the air is calm. What a wonderful world it is, especially when viewed from the Dock.

Almost to Final

Well, I think all my Followers know that we moved from out tiny mobile home into the new house just before Christmas. Speaking of Followers. I've just learned that I actually have three. Seems my udda brudda, DDD, is an avid Follower. I'm sure that there are many more that I don't even know. They just feed on my thoughts and disappear into the sunset as a better, smarter person. I expect my blog will quickly grow to the point where I might make some money by offering advertisement space to major corporations very soon.

Anyway, today was another milestone in our home project. The guy from Colorado had our mobile home hauled away to his home site of 87 acres a few hours south of us. With that, I can finish the grading to the basement level, remove the old septic tank, and hopefully get the final inspection signed off in the next few weeks.

Pretty excited about that. Not that it will mean I'm finished ('cause none of my prior homes ever got really finished), but at least it will mean I can relax on the work without being rushed to make deadlines.

And then on Sumday, I gotta rebuild the Dock.

Scrambled?

So, a few months ago, I advertised our old mobile home on Craig's List. Would you believe, Jay from Colorado, responded to the ad. Turns out he has some property about 3hrs south of us and wanted the place. I had been planning to just demolish the old thing and haul it to the dump, which would have cost me $$ and a lot of hard work. I agreed to let him have it for free providing he bear the moving expense. He was delighted,and so was I.

Anyway, yesterday he arrived here to make the final preparations. Look what he brought with him for me. He was so excited to give me the gift. I opened the egg carton and saw these things inside. I guess he stopped by a local farm while driving from the airport to here, and bought them. Turns out they are quail eggs. I guess they're a delicacy for some, but for me? Took him out to lunch and sent him on his way.

Well. my wife came home from work, and discovered these beauties in the refrigerator. She almost cried and told me to rid them.

So, what am I supposed to do? If either of my avid followers would like them, you need to speak up soon. Maybe I'll put them into an Easter basket to give to a friend. Maybe they will just hatch and I could then return the chicks to nature. Or perhaps I'll advertise the on Craig's List.

Remember, there is enough for everyone, but never enough for the greedy ones. It's raining at the Dock.